


'cause i left my heart at home

by aarobron



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Robron Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/aarobron
Summary: day 3: distance/separationa story about how two people find their way back to each other after spending almost a year three thousand miles apart.or,It’s fairly inconspicuous, all things considered. His ringtone blaring out from where he’d dropped his phone on Cain’s desk, not even two hours before; an unknown number, but he’d memorised the last three digits from the last time they’d called so he knew who it was.A job offer, on west coast America, with a wage that’s triple what Cain pays and an all expenses paid stay. The cars of his dreams, the ones he thinks about when he’s got his head under the bonnet of a Volvo. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.The only catch is that he’d move away for a year.





	'cause i left my heart at home

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 3 of robron week: distance/separation 
> 
> accompanying moodboard by [sophie](http://dingletragedy.tumblr.com/) on [tumblr](http://aarobron.tumblr.com/post/172312925277/day-3-distanceseparation-moodboard-by)
> 
> title from [miles away by memphis may fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3Qz5P-YMdk)
> 
> hope you all enjoy xoxo

Aaron gets the call on a Wednesday. 

It’s fairly inconspicuous, all things considered. His ringtone blaring out from where he’d dropped his phone on Cain’s desk, not even two hours before; an unknown number, but he’d memorised the last three digits from the last time they’d called so he knew who it was. 

A job offer, on west coast America, with a wage that’s triple what Cain pays and an all expenses paid stay. The cars of his dreams, the ones he thinks about when he’s got his head under the bonnet of a Volvo. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

The only catch is that he’d move away for a year.

It’s fairly simple, really – the company wants him to work a year’s experience in California, to get to grips with the cars and the people and the inner workings of the job. And then, when that’s all over, he goes home and gets to head up a sister company working out of Leeds. 

Two years ago, he would’ve jumped at the chance. Bags packed and on a plane within twelve hours, bye-bye Yorkshire and hello sunny beaches – but all that has changed. He’s got Robert to think about now. 

Something smells delicious as he steps through the front door, rich and garlicky, the table already set. It still makes something in Aaron’s chest clench tight, even three years on from when they both decided to bite the bullet and take out a joint mortgage. 

It seemed like the next logical step, and besides – Aaron didn’t want to spend another second away from Robert when he didn’t have to. He hasn’t regretted the decision since. 

“Hey,” Robert says, voice low and husky. There’s a grin on his face, half smug and half adoring, the way he always looks at Aaron: like he’s saying _of course he’s mine_ , and _I can’t believe he’s mine_ , all at the same time. “How was your day?” 

Aaron takes a minute to slip his arms around Robert’s waist, to breathe in the scent of his washing powder and cologne. He smells good; spicy and smoky, and it makes Aaron feel heady. He knows this isn’t going to last, not when he tells Robert the news, so he stretches up on his tiptoes to kiss him, long and slow. 

“It was alright,” He grants eventually, hand finding Robert’s to squeeze hard. He thinks about telling him, about just blurting it out, but a paralyzing kind of fear washes over him ¬– _what if he leaves you?_ – and he pauses in his tracks and changes the conversation. “What’s for tea?”

“Lasagne,” Robert says, dancing back towards the kitchen. His eyes are bright even though his grin has dropped, and he plates up without saying another word. Aaron loves him something fierce – life changing and unstoppable. The feeling makes the decision for him, before he can even think about it. 

They eat in relative silence, Robert mindlessly chattering about his day and the terrible clients he’s dealt with, about Sandra calling to arrange Liv visiting them. It’s nice and mundane and everything that Aaron ever wanted with Robert (from the affair right through to the tentative stage of boyfriends), but he still feels sick to the pit of his stomach.

He can’t do it. He can’t lie about it.

“Robert,” Aaron says suddenly, cutting off the older man’s sentence. There’s a tense pause, one beat and then another two, and Aaron breathes out – deflates. There’s no point beating around the bush. “I’ve been offered a job.”

Robert brightens, a grin on his face (sweeter than the one earlier), like he’s actually _proud_. If only he knew. “That’s great!” He says, reaching over to tangle his fingers with Aaron’s. “I didn’t know you were looking.” 

“Well, I didn’t wanna say anything in case I didn’t get it,” Aaron says, staring hard at their joined hands between them. If this is the last thing he shares with Robert, he wants to remember every single detail. “It’s for a year, minimum.”

“Some kind of managerial position?” Robert asks, thumb tracing smoothing circles over Aaron’s palm. The younger man nods but still doesn’t look up, and he feels Robert sit back. His voice falls gentle. “What’s the catch, Aaron?” 

Aaron lets his eyes flutter closed and takes a deep breath, pulling his hand back from Robert’s. “It’s in a different country, Rob,” He says, voice wavering. 

“Europe’s easy to get to,” Robert counters. A frown stretches his face down and his fingers continue to reach across the table, as though he doesn’t realise that anything’s wrong. As though he doesn’t realise that Aaron’s heart is crumbling right in front of him, hypothetically bleeding all over the kitchen table. “Four hours, at most.” 

“Why don’t you get it?” Aaron snaps, pushing his chair back. The legs of it screech against the tiled floor, cutting through the deafening silence, and he swallows against the bile rising in his throat. “It’s in California.” 

“America,” Robert says. He sounds defeated, like he’s finally accepted it. Aaron hit that stage ten minutes after the first phone call. “Is the job worth it?” 

There’s two ways this could go: Aaron could tell the truth and hurt Robert, or he could lie, and Robert would see straight through it. Both of them end with broken hearts and blood all over the place.

“Yeah,” He admits quietly, falling back onto the chair. He takes a long sip of his beer and watches Robert from under his lashes, pink cheeks and sad eyes. “It’d set us up for life.” 

“Then you need to do it.” Robert says. The sentence falls from his mouth without hesitation, without any thought, and the words sound dead. Robert himself doesn’t look much better. 

“ _What_?” Aaron asks, mouth dropping open from shock. He didn’t expect this- this casual acceptance. He wanted resistance, he wanted a fight. He wanted a reason not to go, and he wanted Robert to be that reason. “You _want_ me to go?” 

“Of course I don’t, Aaron!” Robert says, the volume of his voice rising for the first time. Somehow, it comforts Aaron. At least he knows that Robert gives a shit. “But I want what’s best for you and our future, and there’s planes and holidays – it’s not like I’ll never see you.” 

Aaron rests his elbows on the table, head in his hands. It’s too much, what with the way his head is pounding and his stomach hurts and he wants to punch something until he bleeds. “I don’t want to talk about it now,” He says eventually, tongue heavy in his mouth. “I _can’t_. 

“Alright,” Robert says gently, and rounds the table to take Aaron in his arms. 

.

The first month is the hardest. No, actually, that’s a lie – the first week is the easiest thing he’s ever done in his life. It feels unreal, somehow, like he’s just on holiday and will see Robert in a few days.

The second Sunday is when it hits home. 

They’re Skyping, the timer clicking over to 90 minutes when Robert finally smiles. He looks exhausted, like this is hitting him harder than it is Aaron. “I miss you,” He says quietly, voice rough. “I miss you so much.”

The dam breaks in Aaron – it’s been holding back his feelings all day: missing his sister and his mum, missing a roast dinner with his family, curling up on the couch after with his head resting on Robert’s chest.

“Don’t,” He manages to choke out, the only word he can say before there’s tears streaming down his face. He knows it’s not a pretty sight and that Robert deserves better on their bi-weekly video calls, but he can’t stop it. His cheeks are bright red and swollen, and he wipes his nose on the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry.” 

Robert looks miserable, all hunched over and tiny like seeing Aaron in pain physically hurts him too. “It’s alright,” He says, voice endlessly soft. His hand reaches out, fingertips tracing over the screen even though Aaron can’t see it. “I’m sorry I made you cry.” 

“It’s just hard,” Aaron says, breaking on the last word. He knows he doesn’t need to tell Robert that – they both feel it deeply. 

“Six weeks,” Robert sighs, his voice sounding wrecked. Aaron wishes he could be there; to hold his boyfriend, to talk to him, to tell him it’s going to be okay. The thing is, he doesn’t know that it’s going to be. “Six weeks and you’ll be back. Seven whole nights of just you and me, without three thousand miles between us.” 

That, Aaron thinks, can’t come quick enough. He doesn’t know how he’s going to manage six more weeks – forty-two days without Robert, with an empty bed. His stomach fills with dread. 

“I can’t wait,” Aaron says instead. If he tells Robert he’s struggling, he’ll freak out. He’ll expect the worst, and Aaron- he can’t do that to him. Instead, he smiles sadly, and tells his boyfriend that he loves him. 

.

“Sir,” The woman at the check in desk has a warm voice. Her accent’s strong, but Aaron’s gotten used to it now, and she has that same friendly hospitality that all Americans have (or at least, the ones he’s met). “I’m afraid all the flight you were booked on is overcrowded.” 

Aaron’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach and fizzes in acid. “What?” He asks, barely a sound, but he heard perfectly. He knows. 

“We can book you onto a later flight,” The woman – her nametag reads Louisa – says. Her eyes are filled with sympathy; sympathy that Aaron doesn’t want. He’ll crack. He’ll shatter all over this shiny airport floor, and he won’t get up. “There’s one at 3am?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” He says, for a lack of anything else. What else can he do? He can’t exactly get a lift. It’s 3am flight or nothing, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to miss Robert’s birthday. 

“Perfect!” She says, suddenly all perked up and happy again. She glances at the watch wrapped around her wrist and then back up at Aaron, smiling broadly. “It’s already late evening, sir, so you may as well stay here and grab a bite to eat. Hope your journey goes well.” 

The anger starts spilling through his veins almost immediately. It’s not going _well_ , it’s a fucking disaster – and he’s only on the first stage of it. Maybe it’s a sign, and maybe he should listen. 

He goes through the next couple of hours on autopilot. He eats a tasteless sandwich and washes it down with a pint of weak beer, he scrolls through his phone even though Facebook is dead – it is the middle of the night in the UK, after all – and spends a stupid amount of time looking at the overpriced souvenirs. 

It works though, because before he knows it, he’s back at the check in desk. It’s not Louse anymore – a bloke named Joshua, and his grin is just as wide as he greets Aaron. It goes without a hitch, finally, thankfully, and Aaron can’t help but feel hopeful.

Maybe he will get to see Robert. Maybe he _will_ get to touch him and kiss him and tell him he loves him.

Maybe. 

The thought keeps him going, through security and passport checks until he’s sat at his gate. The wall-to-floor windows aren’t really that fascinating, but he’s exhausted Facebook and it’s not like he’s going to read a _book_.

Besides, none of that matters now. He’s going home.

He doesn’t pay any attention to the crackly, static voice at first. It’s probably just another announcement about a gate closure, or calling passengers. Nothing’s going to stop him going – is it? 

He sits on the hard plastic chair and gazes out of the window. It’s raining now, but he didn’t notice when it started. Maybe it’s been raining for hours. He’s had other things on his mind. 

“Sir?” A voice says, snapping him out of his voice. It’s the third person today that’s called him sir, and he almost laughs at the absurdity of it – he’s a Dingle. They’re usually referred to as some kind of curse word. “Did you not hear the announcement?”

“No,” He replies with a frown, glancing up at the young girl. She’s dressed smartly, in a red skirt suit with her makeup impeccably done. It still doesn’t hide the disappointment on her face. “What’s going on?” 

“The flight’s been cancelled, sir,” She says, red-nailed fingers briefly touching his shoulder like she’s trying to get him to stand up. He stays seated. “There’s a rainstorm heading this way – and it’s grounded all the flights. I’m sorry.” 

He takes a deep breath through his nose, and closes his eyes. “You’re fucking joking,” He says, but it’s a statement. He’s not getting angry with the gate worker – it’s not her fault. 

Clearly, it’s the universe working against him.

“We can offer you a travel voucher to be used on another day, but I’m afraid there’s no use of being here right now,” She says, watching him carefully as he stands. He grabs his carry on bag and looks at her briefly. “It’s better if you go home and rest.” 

.

That’s exactly what he does. He’s exhausted, sick with it and the fact that he’s not going to see Robert. A quick flick through the news tells him that the rainstorm is expected for at least a week, and it crushes through his heart.

“’ron?” A groggy voice asks when they pick up the phone. It should feel comforting, a piece of home transported to him through radiowaves or whatever, but he just feels cold. “Aren’t you meant to be on a flight?” 

“No, mum,” He replies, words slurring a little. He’s not drunk – just a bad combination of tired, tipsy and devastated that’s making his heart feel heavy. “My flight was cancelled. There’s a storm coming in.” 

“Have you told Robert?” She says immediately, sounding more alert. Aaron can imagine her sitting up in bed, phone clutched to her ear. He’s in a similar position himself.

“I didn’t want to call,” He says, pausing to take a sip of his beer and to listen to Chas’ silence on the other end of the line. It _is_ comforting, somehow, knowing that the world back in Emmerdale is going on – with or without him. “I don’t want to tell him.” 

“Well, you’re going to have to,” She snaps. She sounds pissed off, and he knows that it’s because she and Robert have (almost) gotten close since he’s been gone. They both know what it’s like to lose the most important person. “And you’re going to do it now.” 

She hangs up before he can even open his mouth to reply. 

He calls Robert on autopilot. He doesn’t remember finding his number or listening to the dial tone, but the next thing he knows, Robert’s voice is in his ear, warm and kind and everything that Aaron doesn’t deserve.

“Hiya,” He says brightly. There’s the sound of pots and pans in the background, and Aaron knows that he’s probably preparing a whole feast for Aaron’s not so imminent arrival. “Did you land already?”

“I’ve got bad news,” Aaron says, avoiding the actual answer. He’s not ready to hear Robert’s disappointment, the crack in his voice, but then again, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be. “My flight was cancelled.”

“Oh,” Robert says, barely above a breath. The background noise stops, like the rest of the world has faded away and there’s just a spotlight on Robert’s voice. “Can’t you catch another?” 

“They’re all cancelled, Rob,” Aaron sighs, pinching his nose. He feels a little like he did when he first told Robert about moving – he wants his boyfriend to shout and protest and blame him, he wants to _hurt_. “I can’t come back.” 

“It’s alright,” Robert says, but his voice wobbles and the words sound thick. It’s not all right, because Robert’s crying, and Robert _never_ cries. Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever seen that. It’s like the eighth wonder of the world. “It’s not like it’s a special birthday, is it?” 

“I’m just sorry,” Aaron says, because all he really wants is to be next to Robert. It’s all he’s wanted for days – hours, minutes. All of them, every single second that passes, is filled with an ache for Robert. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I know,” Robert says. The acceptance of it is worse than him yelling. “Go on, tell me about your day. I miss your voice.”

.

The night out’s nothing special. He ends up being dragged to a bar with some of the guys from work, because they’re actually his _friends_ (he never thought that’d happen), and they’ve decided he needs cheering up. 

It all goes smoothly for a while – he’s drinking up and talking bullshit, even bumming a cigarette off one of his friends – but the big surprise is when he actually gets hit on. The guy’s nothing to look at, especially not when compared to Robert, but it’s the _feeling_.

He feels wanted. 

He knows, objectively, that Robert wants him in the same way he wants Robert. They’ve always been crazy for each other, and it’s not like there’s been no intimacy (Skype and phone calls do _very_ well), but the pure physicality of this is overwhelming. 

“You’re not gonna go after him?” Glenn asks, laughing in surprise. They all know Aaron’s in a relationship, but they also know that things have been rocky lately. Aaron can’t remember the last time they talked without snapping at each other.

“No,” He says firmly, watching the guy walk away. He wouldn’t be worth it. “I would never do that to Robert.” 

Which is why he doesn’t understand the sickening guilt he feels. 

He tells him because he has to, because he can’t listen to the rich cadence of Robert’s voice without his eyes filling with tears. He tells him like ripping off a plaster – quick and painful.

“A guy hit on me in a bar,” He says, barely above a whisper. He doesn’t know why he feels like this, but it’s almost a sixth sense. There’s a bigger reason why he fucked up. “And I wish I could tell you that I didn’t like it.” 

“Are you serious?” Robert asks. There’s a rage in his voice, quiet and thrumming, and the sickness settles in Aaron’s stomach. He finally feels _something_. “You know, I wasn’t even gonna bring it up.” 

“Bring what up?” Aaron asks distractedly. It’s not like Robert knows what happened – there’s nothing to know anyway. But he still has a feeling that he knows where this is going. 

“ _All night_ ,” Robert hisses, voice low and dangerous. He sounds furious, spitting with it, but Aaron takes it all and absorbs it. It’s better than hurting himself. “All night, I was trying to call you, but you never answered! Liv showed up on _our doorstep_ , because she needed to get away from Sandra!” 

“Is she okay?” Aaron says automatically. He doesn’t take in what Robert said until half a second later – Aaron’s little sister needed him, and he was too busy getting pissed with his mates. That explains the guilt, then. He adds, “I’m sorry.” 

“She wanted to talk to you, Aaron, and she had nowhere to go so she came to me,” Robert states. It’s matter of fact but also an accusation. Aaron knows he deserves it. “She needed you and you were too busy chatting some bloke up!” 

And there it is – the very bottom of this argument. 

“I wasn’t chatting him up!” Aaron says, voice rising to match Robert’s volume for the first time since they started talking. “Wait a minute – are you _jealous_?” 

“Of course I am,” Robert says, but his voice sounds a little dead. A little like he’s given up and accepted that Aaron doesn’t want him anymore, like their relationship is over just like that. “You’re three thousand miles away, Aaron. I don’t know what you get up to.” 

“I wouldn’t-“ Aaron starts, but Robert cuts him off again.

“You don’t tell me how you feel,” The older man continues, sounding like he’s reeling off a list. Aaron understands that – it’s been building for a while, this argument. “It’s been _ten months_ and you still won’t tell me how you feel! I know you’re struggling, but how can I help you when I don’t know _why_?” 

“Because it’s not your problem,” Aaron whispers, but his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and the words are stuck to his throat. 

“Of course it’s my problem, Aaron!” Robert snaps. He sounds anguished, and Aaron wants to cry and apologise and just tell him to give up. He doesn’t want to put him through this. “I’m going to worry no matter what, because I love you!” 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Aaron says calmly. He feels serene, like his body and his mind knows this is the end even though he’s actively fighting against it. “It’s all down to me.” 

There’s a silence for a minute, then another; just the sound of Robert’s deep, angry breathing and the crackling static of the phone line. “I can’t do this,” He says eventually. His voice is tired. “I’ll speak to you later.” 

The line goes dead and Aaron’s left with nothing but his own traitorous thoughts. 

.

They don’t speak later. It’s been three weeks between the argument and now, and Aaron’s coming home. _Finally_. He can’t wait to spend time with his family.

He just doesn’t know what he’s going find when he gets there.

The entire flight is spent with restless fidgeting. He can’t concentrate, can’t keep still, can’t stop replaying the row in his head. He can’t help but think of the radio silence that’s taunted him ever since. 

_What if Robert’s left you?_ , a voice in his head says, deep and terrifying. _What if he’s sick of you and sick of this and doesn’t want you and he’s moved out and you’ll never see him again_ -

He takes a deep breath and pushes the thoughts away. Robert wouldn’t treat him like that, he’s certain of it.

Would he?

There’s no more time to think, thankfully, because the seatbelt light flashes on and the plane starts its descent. It goes smoothly and before he knows, he’s got his suitcase and he steps through to the entrance of the airport.

Well, here he is – back on British soil. 

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting – Robert, definitely. A smile and a kiss, unlikely. But at the very least, Robert stood there, waiting to pick him up and take him home so they can carry on with their lives.

The airport is empty. 

He swallows back the lump in his throat and blinks away the tears. It’s his own fault, really. He shouldn’t have got his hopes up. 

Time to carry on like before, then.

The steps towards the automatic doors are some of the hardest he’s ever taken. Harder than the ones he took away from Robert, harder than the ones he took towards the courtroom where he gave evidence against his dad.

It’s just that it’s real, now – when he leaves this airport, he knows that it’s over. Robert’s left him, he’s disappeared into the night, and somehow, Aaron’s expect to suck it up and carry on without him. 

But something happens. There are moments and seconds and minutes that don’t seem real, and never will. This is one of them: Aaron’s eyes are glued to the floor as he steps into the fresh air, and he feels himself colliding with something before he sees the person. He still doesn’t look up, mumbles an apology, but.

But he’d know them anywhere. He’d know the sharp intake of breath and the fingers that curl around his biceps, know the smell of his aftershave and the way he shudders out a wistful sigh.

“Robert?” Aaron says, the hopeful tone in his voice making him want to turn away from embarrassment. He looks up, sees grey eyes and blond hair like a halo.

He sees his past, his present and his future.

“Aaron,” Robert says, like he doesn’t believe he’s really there. His fingers squeeze tighter and he takes a step closer, like he’s trying to prove to himself that it’s real.

It is real. It’s really _real_. 

There’s snow falling around them, the cold making Robert’s cheeks a frostbitten pink, but he doesn’t notice. He keeps on staring at Aaron, taking in every single detail of his face.

“I’m so sorry,” Aaron rushes out eventually, the words tripping over themselves in a haste to get out of his mouth. He drops his bag to throw his arms around Robert’s shoulders, to pull him in and feel him and breathe him in. “I am so, _so_ sorry, Robert.” 

“Me too,” Robert breathes. His face is tucked into Aaron’s hair and the younger man is certain he can feel Robert’s wet cheeks, but he’s not going to call him out on it – not when his own vision is blurred with tears and he can barely breathe past the lump in his throat.

Robert pulls away firsts, arms still looped around Aaron’s shoulders, and he looks at him, the kind of stare that usually makes Aaron uncomfortable. But this time he lets him, while he does the exact same to Robert.

He looks different but the same – a little more tired, cheeks more sallow, but there’s a relief in his eyes that Aaron feels burning through his own heart.

 _I’m so glad I haven’t lost you_.

He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud until Robert’s laughing, breathless but happier than he’s sounded in ten months. “You could never lose me,” He says, and then surges forward to catch Aaron’s mouth with his own.

For a while – three weeks, but who’s counting – Aaron was worried they’d forget this. He didn’t know if they’d fit the same, after all those days without each other, if they’d grown apart and wouldn’t manage to fall back together.

But now, like this, he knows that he couldn’t forget this. Not even if he tried. 

Robert’s tongue is brushing along the inside of his mouth, against his own, along his lower lip. He’s on him, everywhere, all over, the smell of him so familiar, the muscles of his back and the leather of his jacket under his fingertips.

This – this feels more like coming home more than going back to the house ever will. 

“Don’t leave me,” Aaron says urgently, resting his forehead against Robert’s. He doesn’t uncurl his hands, doesn’t move his body away from where they’re pressed together. It’s like a magnetic force, keeping him where he is. “Please, I don’t want to be away from you ever again.”

But Robert seems relaxed, like this isn’t a problem. It isn’t now, Aaron guesses, because they’re two halves of a whole slotted back together.

“I promise,” Robert says. He pulls away from the embrace slowly, like it pains him, with one hand on Aaron’s suitcase and the other one wrapped around the younger man’s. “Come on. Let me take you home.” 

It’s the first promise that Aaron’s ever let himself believe.

“I love you,” He says as they start towards the car, Robert guiding him to where it’s parked. He wants to say it over and over again, doesn’t want him to ever think otherwise, doesn’t want him to forget. “ _I love you_.”

And Robert just looks at him, with bright eyes and a natural smile – slightly crooked but so, so wide, disbelief. “I love you too,” He says easily. The easiest it’s ever been. Maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder, but Aaron knows that he’s never going to test that theory again. 

He’s home for good this time.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ [aarobron](http://aarobron.tumblr.com/) xo


End file.
